My CEO wife demanded I give up my heart for her childhood sweetheart's transplant. I resisted with every fiber of my being, but she strapped our son to a cold operating table, threatening me with chilling words: "Refuse to donate, and I'll rip out this little bastard's heart and feed it to the dogs!" A sharp scalpel sliced through my chest. My son screamed, his voice full of terror: "Daddy, I'm scared!" Seeing his pale, fragile face, my heart shattered. I agreed to donate my heart. But then I heard her cold, cruel order: "He's worthless, he doesn't deserve an artificial heart!" "Replace it with a pig's heart, I'll take responsibility if he dies!" The world spun. Turns out, even without a heart, the pain could knock you unconscious. When I woke up, my son had already been gutted, his body carelessly tossed into a cold storage room. Ignoring my torn stitches, I staggered to confront her, Only to have my wife point a finger at me, screaming: "How dare you even ask!" "It's all your fault, you disgusting heart! You made Ashley suffer so much he couldn't sleep!" "Unless we replaced it with that brat's heart, none of you will live!" In the cold storage, my son's body was blue and stiff, covered in frost. Meanwhile, my wife was splurging millions on a foundation, celebrating her childhood sweetheart's new lease on life. The news spread like wildfire through the D.C. social circles. Cradling my son's mutilated corpse, My hatred was a knife, carving its way into my very bones. [1] In the corner of the cold storage room, my son was curled up on the floor, as if simply asleep. But the sunken abdomen revealed the torture he had endured. Every organ, save his heart, had been brutally removed, leaving gaping, bloody holes that exposed the bone. I knelt beside him, trembling, reaching out to hold him. His body was stiff and cold. "Mikey, I'm sorry, Daddy couldn't protect you." I whispered, tears blurring my vision, but unable to melt the frost on his skin. Guilt washed over me. "Don't be scared, Daddy's taking you home." I covered him with a white sheet, carefully hoisted him onto my back, and stumbled toward the door. The hastily sewn stitches in my chest burst open, blood soaking the gauze and dripping onto the floor. In the hospital corridor, news of the wealthy CEO's new foundation blared from every TV screen. People were buzzing about it: "I heard that Ashley Davis donated fifty million to start the foundation to celebrate Ashley's new heart!" "That's nothing, Ashley even bought a mansion for the medical team's lab dogs!" "So romantic and kind, how can someone be so perfect!" Their voices were full of admiration and envy, But each word was like a knife, carving into my shattered soul. I clutched the wall, gasping for breath. "Sir, are you okay?" A passing nurse helped me up, but recoiled when she saw the blood on my chest. "You'll bleed out if you don't get that treated!" My mouth twitched. Even if the bleeding stopped, the pig's heart would eventually lead to infection and a miserable death. Besides, my son was gone. I had no reason to live. I waved her off, telling her not to bother. Then, I kept limping forward. Every step felt like walking on shards of glass. The cold seeped into my bones. I shivered, but I wouldn't stop. My son always hated the cold, but his mother thought boys shouldn't be coddled and often locked him in the cold storage room to toughen him up. The boy often lost consciousness because of the cold. His last moments were also spent in this freezing room. Even with an animal's heart beating in my chest, the pain was suffocating. Now, I just wanted to take him somewhere warm. But I ran right into Ashley and Ashley's childhood friend Ashley. "How disgusting, to run into you here!" Ashley stared at me with a disgusted look, annoyed. "Look at you, you're a disgrace!" My chest had been sliced open. My clothes were covered in blood. My hair was matted with sweat. Compared to the two of them, dressed to the nines, I was a wreck. I couldn't care less about them. I kept walking. "I'm talking to you, are you deaf?" My ignoring her angered Ashley. She grabbed me, And my weakened body couldn't handle it. I almost fell. Instinctively, I clutched my son on my back. Ashley's face changed. He pointed at me and asked: "Mike, what are you carrying?" I turned around, but he ripped the white sheet off my son. [2] "AHHHH!" Ashley screamed. My son's body was exposed to the air, his skin blue. His face was pale, his eyes half-open and filled with nothing but emptiness. Ashley narrowed her eyes, shielding Ashley from the sight, and yelled: "Mike Davis! Are you trying to scare Ashley with a broken ice sculpture!" "You get a heart transplant and your brain breaks too? You're using cheap tricks to get revenge!" Ashley clutched his chest, took a few deep breaths, and complained: "Mike, you know I just had surgery, I can't be shocked." "This heart cost Ashley billions, what if something goes wrong? How could I face her?" The more pathetic he sounded, the darker Ashley's face became. I was about to explain, but she slapped me, and I swallowed the words that were forming in my throat. I could only cry. I hated myself for being useless, even donating my heart hadn't saved my son. He was only three years old. He hadn't had the chance to see the world. His own mother had sacrificed him for the man she loved. Now he was dead and couldn't even rest in peace. Ashley was still yelling, listing my sins, "If your heart wasn't so broken, Ashley wouldn't have to suffer twice." "You used the money I gave you to make an ice sculpture of that little bastard!" Her words were like a million knives, tearing me apart. I bit my lip, my nails digging into my palms. I couldn't help but feel angry when she mentioned my son. To cure Ashley, she had taken my money and spent billions on a medical team. But she was still stingy with me and my son, only giving me four hundred dollars a month for expenses. My son was malnourished, anemic, and getting thinner every day. I wanted to buy him some meat and vitamins, but she found out and beat me, "Ashley hasn't recovered yet, why does he need money for vitamins!" "The money in this house isn't for you two bloodsuckers to spend!" Seeing my son starving, I could only sell my blood. But her team accidentally discovered that our blood types were a match, And I became Ashley's organ donor. I forced back my tears and choked out: "Mikey was your own son." She scoffed, glancing at me. "Ashley getting his heart is a gift!" "It's not like we didn't give him an artificial one, he wouldn't die." The winter wind cut to the bone, but it wasn't as cold as my heart. I clutched my chest, swallowed a mouthful of blood, and said: "Ashley, Mikey's dead." She frowned slightly, and I thought she finally realized what a tragedy she'd caused. But she laughed. "Mike Davis, you got a pig's heart and became as stupid as a pig?" "Telling such a ridiculous lie, aren't you afraid of karma? You're his father, you'd curse your own son to make me feel sorry for you!" Ashley was the one who deserved karma. Heartbroken, I didn't want to argue. Protecting my son, I turned to leave, but she chased me. She shoved me to the ground. My son's body fell to the floor. [3] "No!" I knelt on the floor, trembling, reaching out to touch my son's body. The extreme cold had destroyed the cells. All the tissues had turned brittle and easy to break. "Mikey, I'm sorry, did that hurt? It's Daddy's fault." I checked him, but the blood seeping from my chest was covering my son. I couldn't see clearly. Ashley saw me and grabbed my collar. "Mike Davis, what's wrong with you!" "You can pretend so well with a broken ice sculpture, I think you've lost it!" My wound tore open, blood smearing her hands. She pulled away. "Disgusting! Now you're trying to use the sob story trick?" "I'm warning you, being pitiful won't work, apologize to Ashley!" "Or I'll smash that ice thing to pieces!" Ashley kicked my son, and the sound of breaking ice echoed in my ears. I felt like I couldn't breathe. I looked down. A long crack had appeared on my son's body. I threw myself on the floor, yelling: "Ashley, this is my son's body!" She laughed. "Mike Davis, are you serious? Who's body breaks when you kick it?" She kicked him a few more times. "No! Stop!" "Don't! Please..." My screams echoed through the halls. I tried to block her with my hands, but she kicked me in the chest. I spat out blood and fell to the ground. Stretching out my hand, I watched my son shatter beneath her feet. Ashley stopped, out of breath. She squatted down in front of me. "Are you done yet!" "Apologize to Ashley!" My vision was blurry, and my ears were ringing. I crawled to my son. Pain shot through me. Ashley stepped on my hand, and I yelled. He looked uncomfortable, "Ashley, my heart hurts." He was swaying. "Ashley, what's wrong?" Ashley rushed to support him. I used all my strength, desperately shouting: "I'm sorry, please forgive me!" [4] I thought that would work. She was furious. "I didn't teach you how to apologize!" I used all my strength, desperately shouting: "I'm sorry, please forgive me!" She was happy. "Ashley, does he look like a dog?" Ashley laughed. "Ashley, he is your husband, you are crazy." "He is too disgusting! I would divorce him." I ignored her. Reaching out, I tried to retrieve the last remains. Ashley saw it and yelled: "Are you crazy!" Ashley begged, but now couldn't get his heart back. Hearing that, Ashley paused. Ashley’s son was dead. Ashley covered his chest. Ashley said her chest hurts and yelled, with rage. "You are trash! I want you to apologize!"
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